Feathers
by AzureFeather
Summary: Set in an alternate 503AF, taking place on Gran Pulse and Bhunivelze. Hope's meeting with a chocobo rancher leads to both of their lives being changed and futures turning down uncertain paths. Neither expects to find a kindred spirit and their relationship blossoms, but is something dark looming on the horizon? Re-written from an earlier version. Part one of series.
1. Ginger Cordova: Dawn of a New Day

_**A/N:**__ Ginger Cordova is an original character and I can post her bio if anyone's interested. This story is set in an alternate 503 AF where some of the paradoxes have been solved, yet a few of the very impactful ones at the end of XIII-2 haven't been fixed, which results in most characters not showing up. I have a sequel in the works but right now I'm having issues motivating myself to work on it (lots of content, no idea where to start)._

_Any comments or reviews are very welcome. Positive feedback is what gives authors like myself the confidence to post their work, and I need all the confidence I can get. Thank you._

* * *

**Ginger Cordova: Dawn of a New Day**

Sunrise is a beautiful sight to behold. It's a gift to us from the natural world, free and wondrous. As I lay here on the hill, the touch of cool, dewy-bladed grass brushing against my bare arms, my thoughts wander to the sky above. Hanging in the air to the south is Bhunivelze, a cold dark sphere against the soft morning light.

Millions of people live up on that thing. A floating steel-grey orb full of cities and tall buildings and advanced technology; things you would never see here down on Gran Pulse. I wonder if the people there can even see the sunrise. Do they wake up and look out of their windows, marvelling at the myriad of golds and reds and oranges splaying across the sky, heralding the arrival of a new day? Do they even care there's a whole other world beyond that lifeless metal shell they reside on?

I'll admit, life on Gran Pulse doesn't change a great deal. There are days I am bored rigid and just waiting for things to happen. Adding some variation are the traders from other provinces in their colourful caravans and the tourists from Bhunivelze itself. They visit for our guided tours of the Illu-Aana Steppe and wild, somewhat dangerous forays into giant oretoise country. All on the back of a chocobo, with my three sturdy heavily-armed brothers along to ensure their safety.

Alas, just as the sunrise is fading into daylight, so too does my morning respite dissipate into nothingness. I hear someone calling my name and it's off to work I go.


	2. Ginger: First time for Everything

**Ginger: First Time for Everything**

It's mid-afternoon and a radiant sun beams proudly in the clear, flawlessly blue sky. Swirls of soft sandy dust spiral up from the ground in little eddies. The scents of baking wood and hot metal permeate the air. At the edges of my vision mirages born of summer heat shimmer and waver in the distance. I'm recalling an earlier conversation as I lean back on the white corral fence of our holding pen, waiting for my visitor to arrive.

"But why do I have to do it?" I'd asked my father, annoyed at the lack of choice in this situation.

"They're your birds. You know them inside out, personality and all, since you spend so much bloody time with them. You'll do it and I'll hear no more complaints. And make an effort to be social too," father had said plainly, arms crossed over his broad chest.

I had chosen to ignore the latter part of his statement. "So what am I to expect, a high-flying Academy exec that wants a pet chocobo for his daughter?"

My father had sighed then and ran his hand across his face, stopping to rub his eyes with forefinger and thumb. We've clashed over this issue more times than I can recall. Father wants me to be social and meet people, find a husband and settle down like some old-fashioned Pulsian wife, content with whatever life throws at her. I struggle against that fate, at every turn. Chocobos are my solace; their companionable air much more appealing to me than the heavy onus of human beings and their complications.

Shaking my head free of thoughts, I try to focus on my task at hand. Apparently, there had been a call yesterday evening from a member of the Academy hoping to arrange a meeting. Whoever it was sought advice on chocobos and my father had nominated me, oblivious in my absence, to talk to them. Hurray.

I watch as the airship makes its decent from Bhunivelze. At first it's just a single mote against the expanse of summer sky, but then it gains shape and definition on its approach. Like a black-scaled fish in a crystalline river it reflects the sun's light, casting off a solar flare as it banks and prepares to land. Behind the homestead it drops out of view and I feel the motions of it landing through the ground at my feet.

My brother Lucan and another man walk around the side of the building, the former talking quite animatedly at the latter. No doubt he's asking questions about life on Bhunivelze and I smile at his enthusiasm. Friendly and always able to see the best in people, my youngest sibling is also the one I'm closest to. The visitor, for all his unexpected grilling at the hands of Lucan, seems happy to respond and walks with a casual but measured air.

Words of a conversation in mid-flow reach me as they approach. My brother thanks the man for putting up with his questions before taking his leave as a cool breeze saunters past me, fleeting but welcome against the unrelenting heatwave.

"You must be Miss Cordova. Good afternoon." The man holds out his gloved hand in greeting, which I regard for a moment before shaking. "I'm Hope, from the Academy."

"Good afternoon. What can Blue Feather Ranch do for you, Hope?"

When the man speaks his voice quietly hums with feeling and a true connection to his cause. Bhunivelze is in need of morale; its people are at an all-time low and he wants to fix that. The idea of a parade, part of a national day of celebration to lift the spirits of his nation's citizens, is one of the more popular suggestions.

As different as our worlds are, I normally wouldn't be interested in anything happening up there, but one thing strikes me as I listen to Hope's words; he actually cares. Learning that people on Bhunivelze are capable of emotions is a somewhat novel experience to me, after everything I've been told.

Hope is different in many ways to the average Pulsian man. He's of slender build and dressed in a crisp white tabard with yellow trim and shiny platinum buckles. An aquamarine tie hangs neatly from a shirt only visible by its collar. Grey jeans ending in a pair of soft leather boots halfway up his calves complete the look; the uniform of an officer, if I'm remembering correctly.

As for the man himself, bright intelligent eyes are set into a face softened with youthful curves. Silver hair, a rare sight down here, is caressed by sunlight and tousled affectionately by the passing breeze. There's a reserved timbre to Hope's voice, as if great thought is behind each and every word. Fair-skinned and tall with an air of authority about him, this Academy officer couldn't be more Bhunivelzian if he'd tried.

"So that's why I'm here," Hope explains. "If it's possible, I'd like to incorporate chocobos into part of the parade. You see, up on Bhunivelze chocobos are very popular and to see live ones, especially so close, would draw huge crowds of people. I'm sure of it. Blue Feather Ranch came highly recommended, not just for the chocobos themselves but your expertise and knowledge."

"Thank you," I say timidly, uneasy at the compliment. "The birds mean a great deal to me so their welfare is of the highest priority. If you can assure that, I'll be happy to help you."

"Of course." The Academy officer nods once and smiles. I study his face, expecting only to confirm the sincerity of his words, but I end up staring straight into his awaiting gaze. Cut like purest jadeite, his eyes are the most amazing shade of bluey-green I've ever seen and fact that they're on me is almost disarming.

"Then it's possible," I say, remembering to speak at last. "You'll need birds that don't scare easily and that can handle being surrounded by a lot of people. How many were you thinking of?"

"Well," the man begins, pulling a digi-tab out of the satchel slung over his shoulder, "based on what we have planned so far, the ideal amount would be around ten or twelve. Here are some rough ideas on what we'd like in the parade itself."

Schematics and rough drawings of the parade plans shine out from the little black screen in stark blue light. Already, the names of some suitable birds pop into my head, but I ask if Hope would like to come back and take a look at them some time soon. After arranging another meeting, the Academy officer thanks me with a kind smile and I watch him leave, back the way he'd been led by my brother Lucan.

"Wow. Is it possible my sister really is human?" A voice from behind startles me and I turn to see my second youngest brother Denny leaning on the fence, grinning like a mad fool. "Saw how you looked at him. Couldn't take your eyes off him and his fancy uniform, eh. Want yourself some of that?"

"Shut up, idiot," I snap a little too defensively. Denny merely laughs in response.

"It's true then! I don't believe it. You aren't a chocobo in disguise after all. Kweh-kweh!"

As Denny is walking away, amused by his own joke, I look off into the distance and I don't know what to think. My visitor wasn't at all what I imagined. In my mind's eye, I expected to meet a stuffy, brusque middle-aged man who wouldn't take no for an answer. Someone who didn't care about the welfare of the birds at all and who'd treat me with as about much respect as he would a Pulsian worm crawling around in the mud.

I would have told such a man I didn't want anything to do with him. But this Academy officer Hope, well, he is coming back tomorrow.


	3. Ginger: Old Things and New People

**Ginger: Old Things and New People**

Sadly, it didn't turn out how I'd expected at all. In the back of my mind I'd thought that, after picking out twelve chocobos for Hope and having watched him go off home to his floating world, I'd never see him again. Not now that he'd gotten what he wanted from us. From an early age I'd heard that said so often about people from Bhunivelze I'd just taken it for granted, but what actually happened was even stranger and a lot more hurtful.

Two days before the parade, my father announced casually at breakfast that I'd have no further part to play in the whole thing. That he did so with a complete and utter disregard for all of my protests just made it that extra bit worse. Lucan, Denny and my third brother Indrik were the ones to escort the chocobos up to Bhunivelze and spend two days up there, making sure everything went smoothly.

Lucan, as much as I love him, harped on for a full afternoon about what an amazing place Bhunivelze is when he got back. I could only take so much of that before I went off to sulk in the garden, taking all of my frustration out on the poor vegetable patch. The turnips came off worse, having felt the wrath of my pitchfork and all the rage I channelled through it. Serves them right.

Chocobos may not be able to offer comforting words or give you a bracing hug, but you can always rely on them to be true. With feathered hearts on their proverbial sleeves, they will listen to your every word and still remain your most faithful friends; that is only one reason I love them so very much.

So, after a hard morning's work cleaning out the hatchery barn, I'm sitting with my back against the building on a bale of hay outside. It's scorching hot and I can see the waves of heat rising from the metal roofs, warping the air around them. Bone-dry puffs of lazy dust waft up from the ground, nudged by a feeble and dehydrated breeze. It's nice and cool in the shade though.

I hold in my hand what's known as a book; an archaic collection of bound paper, a relic of centuries gone by. Most people just use digi-pads or portable computers, but I don't believe those things have any soul. At some point books became a waste of resources. "Why not just get rid of them and use the technology we have?" someone must have asked, likely sitting in an office of lifeless polycarbonate, green-tinted glass and brushed steel.

Each book is a journey. It's an adventure in words, paved across the pages like ink-black stepping stones, each one leading you onward towards the conclusion. There's nothing like the history-rich aroma of a book or the rough edges of its hardback cover. Some writers must think as I do, because they even now get their works printed on paper. They're rare though, especially on the wild, untamed expanse of terrain that is Gran Pulse.

"Hello." The sudden noise makes me jump and I bristle, poised to lash out at whoever dares interrupt my carefree musing. Quite unexpectedly, the source is silver-haired Hope dressed in his Academy uniform. How long has he been standing there, watching me? "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

All I can do is stare as he smiles and asks if he can join me. I must nod or otherwise agree because he does, right beside me on the makeshift seat of cool dried-out hay. In what looks like a lost battle with the heat of our Pulsian summer, Hope looks hot and clammy. I'm not surprised because I bet he's used to air-conditioning and climate-control, but you'll have no such luxury down here on Gran Pulse. I think for a moment about asking him why he's here and if he needs something, but the officer beats me to it.

"I hope you'll excuse me for intruding, but I wanted to let you know that the parade was a huge success and that's in no small part due to the chocobos you picked out for us. Each and every one of them brought so much happiness to the people of Bhunivelze, the least I could do is come here and thank you personally for all of your help." Hope pauses and his smile widens into a grin. "I hear we even have an official Chocobo Fan Club now."

"You're welcome," I say and look out over the sun-baked yard, wanting to avoid a repeat of the last time I looked into those eyes of his.

The officer continues on. "I called yesterday and the day before, but your father said you were too busy to talk. It seems turning up in person did the trick though, since here you are. On behalf of Bhunivelze and the Academy itself, thank you."

Hope has no way of knowing, but the integrity of his words is poisoned by the vitriol of father's lies. This past week, I'd been about as busy as I am right now, so the untruth only leads me to wonder; how many times has this happened and what else don't I know? My silence prompts Hope to ask what I'm reading, his gaze falling to the open book in my hands. Lujo Kinkaid's "Future Paradise", I tell him. At once, all traces of formality disappear from the Academy officer's voice as he drops into a casual tone and his face lights up excitedly.

"Really, you're a fan too? I love his work. In over five hundred years, I've yet to find anyone that can write out their imagination the way Lujo Kinkaid did. Have you read the other books?"

"Others?" I ask, interested. All I know of this author is the one volume before me. It's one of my favourites.

"You haven't heard of them?" Hope's brow furrows into a frown as I shake my head softly. "The second is a little downbeat, but the other two, especially the final book, are incredible. Want to read them?"

"I really would," I concur eagerly, already excited at the possibility of something new to read.

We chat for a long time afterwards, about nothing in particular but whatever comes to mind. Just talking to him makes me feel lighter. True to his word, a package arrives for me the next day at breakfast. It's a stack of three books, securely wrapped in plasti-pack with a rectangle of white card placed on the top. Written in neat handwriting is:

* * *

_Miss Cordova,_

_As promised, Lujo Kinkaid's sequels in original hardback format. I hope you enjoy them. First is the book you were reading and then it's "Wild Frenzy". Next is "Restless Soul" and finally "Skyward Heavens"._

_These are my own copies, so I'll come back to visit at some point and see how you're getting on with them._

_Many thanks once again.  
Hope_

* * *

My father is speaking to me across the table. I know, because out of the corner of my eye, I can see his mouth moving in between bites of a steak and egg sandwich, but I can't hear him. My gaze is fixed outside of the window, on the storm clouds brewing over the plains. Roiling and twisting in the sky, darkness drowning out the daylight and taking over as ruler of the heavens. Something similar is happening inside of me and I'm not sure where it's leading.


	4. Ginger: Fighting Through the Rain

**Ginger: Fighting Through the Rain**

Living and working on a chocobo ranch isn't always about spending time with the birds. It's much more involved than that and despite father taking on occasional workers when needed, we each have our fair share of menial tasks.

Lucan and I are out on the far eastern edge of Blue Feather's land, riding through a particularly angry squall on our way to examine the perimeter fences. Both of us are miserable and cold, soaked wet through. Waterproof gear only helps so much and anyway, rain has an annoying habit of finding holes in your defence. The sooner we can do our rounds and get home to comfort, the better.

Our land is bordered by a dual layer of defences. The outer edge stands three meters tall and is made of interlinked panels of titanium chain, extending about a meter underground for stability. Inside of that is a two meter wall of brick and stone, as many different colours as there are types of mineral down here on Gran Pulse.

After dismounting our chocobos and scaling the shorter wall, we're both checking the fence for damage when my brother calls me over. Crouching low on the muddy ground, he points to a section of chain-link that has been shredded by three long slashes. "Behemoth?" Lucan asks, brushing his gloved hand along the serrated edge. He has to shout over the sound of the raging storm.

"Let's see," I shout back. Trying to get a good look at the fence is a constant struggle against the weather. Even through the blurry visage of rain and whipping wind, I can tell that the claw marks are too narrow for a behemoth to ever have made them. "I think it's wolves again Luc. See this bit, where they tried to pull the section away? A behemoth would have ripped that right out of the ground."

Lucan stands and pushes against the chain-link fence, testing its strength. It only looks to be torn so it's not too much work to fix it, but it means we have to come out here again. I move back against the inner wall and watch him, hoping to have at least a moment's rest from the storm's biting edge. A cold trickle of water runs down my neck and I groan miserably, pulling the coat even tighter around me as a glint of light catches my eye. Up on the wall is a dark shape, outlined starkly against the lightning-streaked sky. The next few seconds happen entirely on instinct.

"Move!" I yell and dive at Lucan, forcing him to the ground. A silver lobo lands on the spot he'd been standing in a mere moment ago and I watch as its filthy claws tear up the soil, predatory instincts working faster than its brain. A wicked, cruelly-bladed tail whips back and forth as the beast snarls.

Lucan is up almost immediately, drawing dual scimitars from their sheaths at his waist and ducking down into a battle stance. As I pick myself up from the sodden ground, I feel a flash of ice cold run along the length of my arm and turn round to see a second wolf snarling at me, its dagger-lined maw dripping with saliva.

Freezing water fills my eyes as I watch Lucan parry and feint, deflecting the blows of his silver attacker. My limbs are becoming heavy. I look down to my arm but see only shredded fabric and flesh, each blurring into the other. Strangely, there's no panic. Even as something burns its way into my blood, there's no urgency and I simply let go, sinking to the ground as Lucan turns, sees me and begins to run.

He raises one blade in a sweeping arc, but the movements appear fuzzy and slow. Still, one wolf is defeated and I watch as it takes an age to hit the ground, finally landing amidst a spray of mud and rain. It takes all the energy I have just to keep my eyes open, even when a voice in the distance is telling me to fight. Instead I relax and let everything go dark, welcoming the peace and quiet. Now I don't feel cold or wet, just tired and empty.


	5. Hope Estheim: Attraction

**Hope Estheim: Attraction**

Miss Cordova's youngest brother grips me firmly by the shoulder in a gesture of solidarity as I look down at her, in peaceful sleep at last. She's as pale as the white bedclothes she's enveloped in, all except the flow of red hair cascading across the pillow like a river of blood. The memory resurfaces.

There's something about this woman I can't shake and I find myself thinking about her at the oddest times. Even though we haven't known each other very long, I see parts of myself within the guarded aspects of her behaviour; the same intelligence and curious mind, that longing for a kindred spirit. She's beautiful too, but I doubt she realises. It feels like she doesn't belong where I found her – a proverbial diamond in the rough.

In my experience, everything happens for a reason. Intending only to visit, I found her on the brink of death. Miss Cordova can keep the books a while longer; it'll give me another excuse to see her after all. Ah Hope, even after everything you've been through you're still a coward.


	6. Ginger: The Unexpected Visit

**Ginger: The Unexpected Visit**

There's little memory of my accident. When I try to think back I can only see rain and mud blurring into the dark recesses of my mind. Lucan is by my bedside when I wake, but he won't tell me anything. The only piece of information I can get out of anyone is that I've been unconscious for three days, collapsing due to blood loss and that I shouldn't worry. I'm fine now.

Father seems in a distant place whenever I catch him looking at me, but he quickly shifts into something unreadable. "You're alive. Don't question it," is all he'll offer in response to my curiosity. At first I put it down to him just having been worried and guarding his true feelings, like men usually do, but there's that lingering doubt. After all, it wouldn't be the first occurrence of him lying to me recently. For now, I've tried to ignore it but I don't trust people; I feel more isolated than ever.

It's early evening now on Gran Pulse. I'm sitting atop a hill to the south of our ranch, watching impassively as sunset paints the sky a thousand shades of vermilion. From up here, I can see right to the edge of Blue Feather's borderlands and beyond, to the meadows and rocky mountain ranges far off into the distance. We'd had a small party of tourists today; a young crowd from what Lucan had told me. My only part in that had been fetching and saddling each of the riding birds after which I'd headed off to the vegetable garden.

In total there are ninety four chocobos under our care on the ranch. They are mostly yellows and greens with a few breeding pairs of other hues, but I know and love each individual bird. Most of the visitors we receive treat them as novelty vehicles with feathers, but every single bird has a personality; little quirks and habits like a human being. I understand the chocobos and I feel close to them, whereas I don't with most people I encounter, but is that my fault or theirs?

Up on the hill, my mind wanders to thoughts of Hope the Academy officer; that rare exception to my rule. I can't stop thinking about him lately. As I hold his copy of "Skyward Heavens" against my chest, the closeness of it comforts me out here in the fading light. When no-one's around, I'll open the book at a random place, close my eyes and breathe in the scent of the pages, trying to imagine where he was when he read them. What he was thinking. What he was doing. It makes me feel connected to him somehow. For the first time in my life, I look up into the sky and at the dark sphere of metal hanging there and I'm envious of it.

Just as I'm falling into deep thought again, the sleepy chocobo at my side perks up and turns his crested head right around. Whatever he's sensed makes him puff up into a feather-ball threat display and the brief flurry of alarm I feel is dispelled almost immediately. Ever since the accident with the wolves he's done this; acted like an over-protective bodyguard around me. It's endearing but unnecessary, so I tell him that and run my fingers through the silky feathers of his neck, luxurious and deep purple-black like pristine velvet.

There's a soft thud to my right and I glance across to see something completely unexpected, albeit very welcome. Hope is sitting there with a sheepish look and clutching his knees to his chest. Tonight it seems he's not an Academy officer but a civilian dressed in casual clothes.

"Hello. I wasn't sure if your friend would attack me and decided to play it safe. Those claws and the sharp beak look like formidable weapons, but it seems he or she has settled down now?" Hope says, glancing across at the now recumbent chocobo.

"His name is Rhongo," I offer with a smile. There's a cheerful "kweh" in response from the feather-pile himself.

"Ah well. Pleased to meet you, Rhongo." Silence hangs there for a while, neither of us knowing what to say. Hope breaks the ice eventually. "He looks comfortable down there. And what a unique colour he is."

"Rhongo was the exception in his clutch," I say. "Mother and father are black, but this little chick turned out a different colour. So he's an oddity but it worked out well for him."

"So it seems," Hope chuckles and then I see a ponderous look cross his face. "I've always wondered. Why is it every chocobo I've ever met is a male? And is it true that they have an odour that most people find unpleasant?"

I take a moment to compose my words and then explain how a chocobo's body uses the oils in their food to insulate and soften their feathers, so the odour is only as unpleasant as what they eat. Since we feed our birds gysahl and mimmet with the occasional sprig of lavender, Blue Feather chocobos don't have that problem. Sudden embarrassment burns my cheeks. I check warily to make sure Hope hasn't dozed off or gotten bored, as most people usually do when they accidentally ask about the birds. But no, my visitor is still listening and waiting for me to continue.

"Females are smaller than males and really rather delicate, especially when they're with eggs, so it's easier to just let them be breeding stock. Males have better temperaments too and generally don't try to peck your face off if you catch them in a bad mood."

Hope laughs softly and turns to me, the light of the setting sun shining resplendently in those jadeite eyes. I try to stop myself being drawn into them but fail miserably, powerless to look away. Amazingly, he holds my gaze and begins to speak in a gentle tone about how impressed he is with my knowledge and dedication. Something sparks alive inside of me and I have the urge to reach out and touch him. It grows ever more as we continue to stare at each other, allowing the soft sounds of approaching twilight to exist in place of words. As I'm about to break down, ignoring the warning in my head, Hope rescues me and speaks.

"You're not like any Pulsian I've ever met before. Nor Bhunivelzian, come to think of it."

"Is that a good thing?" I ask, noting my voice is almost shaking with nerves. Hope smiles and nods. "Both of my parents are apparently old Cocoon stock. Mother died in a hunting accident when I was a child and extended family raised all four of us until we were old enough to work on the ranch. Her family came from the west, a place called Yaschas Massif."

"I've heard of it. A very historic place." Hope looks hesitant, like he wants to speak but is afraid to. "I guess I'm an orphan now. Both of my parents are dead. My mother died a long time ago in a very distant place. I wasn't close to father at all until the end, but he died seven years ago last month."

The words "I'm sorry" are on the tip of my tongue, but I hold them back. It's so easy to say that and sound trite, like you're using it as an excuse because you can't think of anything decent to say. Hope sighs and stares out across the plains, clearly uneasy at the dark turn of conversation. Desperate, I open my mouth and speak.

"How come you're down here, anyway?" I realise how ignorant the question is and try to fix it, awkwardly. Those eyes of his focus on me. My task is suddenly a hundred times more difficult. "I mean, I didn't expect to see you. And out here. I'm not easily findable. Mostly on purpose. I like to wander off on my own."

"Your brother told me that you were out here. He seems worried about you for some reason." Hope smiles and relief washes over me. When I don't reply, he shuffles closer to me and follows my gaze up into the twilight heavens. "Did you know that some of the stars in the night sky have already died out? Hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago."

I smile, knowing the answer to this one. "Yeah. Depending on how far away they are. Takes that long for their luminance to reach us." The Academy officer's bewildered expression is so funny I can't help but laugh. "I love to learn about all kinds of things. Sometimes the travelling merchants bring books for me and I'm not picky. Of course, that means I end up with a head stuffed full of useless information."

Hope leans towards me and then asks quietly, "Just out of interest, how old do you think I am?"

It's an odd question and I'm taken aback. Before I can answer though, there's a beeping sound and the officer pulls out a device that lights up in the dark. Casting it a cursory glance, he then stands and offers his hand to help me up from the ground.

"I'm afraid my time's up. They need me at work," Hope sighs. We're facing each other on the hill, both seemingly unwilling to move. Again the need for closeness rises within me, but like he predicts it the Bhunivelzian speaks and quells all possibility.

"Miss Cordova..." he begins, his voice sounding like mine did earlier: nervous.

"Please call me Ginger."

"Ginger. The thing is … " He glances down at his hands then back at me, almost fearfully. "I'd like to see you again. I mean, if you're busy that's fine. That's perfectly acceptable. What I'm trying to say is, I'd like to spend more time with you, so we can get to know one another better. I really have to leave now."

"Else you're going to miss the airship?" I ask with a curious smile.

"Yes. No. Kind of. I'm sorry Ginger. I'm going to be late. I'll send something for you in the morning."

"Take Rhongo!" I shout after Hope as he sprints off down the hill. My chocobo takes one look at me, having apparently risen from the ground when I did and cocks his head. He's not going to leave me so I jump onto his back in a single, fluid movement and we run off down the hill together after that awkward and somewhat late-for-his-flight Bhunivelzian.


	7. Ginger: Communications in Secret

**Ginger: Communications in Secret**

The following morning, the sunrise is golden and pink. Such a beautiful visage I can see from my bedroom window, open wide to let in morning's fresh, clear air. Outside in the yard, I can see Indrik and my father with the huge brightly-painted, gaudily-decorated Golbez family caravans. Two men and an older woman are engaging them in conversation, no doubt bartering for better prices this month.

We trade a variety of products from the ranch: chocobo feathers, bundles of herbs and fresh vegetables from the gardens, rock lizard eggs and meat, dainty little horns from the rams, wool, haunches of lamb, jams and preserves. All kinds of things. Everything we can't make ourselves, we buy in. Very rarely, maybe once or twice a year, father takes my brothers up to Bhunivelze for certain supplies.

I'm showered and dressed, brushing my hair absently and examining each chocobo in line at the front of the caravans. One of the yellows at the back is putting too much weight on his left side, I notice. Might have lamed his leg on the way here but still, he shouldn't really be working in that case. Just when I'm about to head downstairs to do a closer inspection, there's a knock at the door.

"Come in," I call and Lucan appears, first peeping his head around the door and then entering the room fully. He's holding a wrapped box in his arms, grey and plain-looking but it elicits a knot of excitement in my stomach. Presumably it's from Hope and I haven't a clue what it could be.

"Here, this arrived for you earlier," Lucan confirms. I take the parcel and open it revealing an ornate plant pot, cool to the touch and painted with delicate flourishes. In it is planted a single flower. A beautifully slender stem the quintessential colour of nature holds in place two delicate leaves, soft and fragrant even from this distance.

But it's the flower that takes my breath away. It is the perfect match of a chocobo's feathers, in both colour and texture, fanning out like a wing or a tail. Even the blade-shaped petals have tiny little indentations in them the style of a feather's barbs. Tied loosely around the stem with blue ribbon is an envelope.

Before I can read what's contained therein, Lucan sits down beside me on the bed and puts his arm around me. There's a concerned look on his face. "Had to hide it from father. I'm pretty sure he'd have trashed it."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, puzzled.

My brother takes a slow deep breath before continuing. "Father's taken issue with the Academy and your new friend in particular. From something stupid Denny said at dinner ages ago, he reckons they're gonna take you away to Bhunivelze and we'll never see you again. Ever since, he's tried to throw your friend off the trail. Lied to him and stuff. But I need to know sis, are you serious about that Academy guy?"

"In what way? Do you think something's going on Luc?"

"I ain't judging you. I wanna see you happy. I ain't seen anything make you this happy in a long time. You think I don't notice." My brother squeezes me gently and that simple act of affection rattles a torrent of emotions in me. Tears sting and breath catches painfully. I try to speak but I don't even know where to start.

"Lucan..."

"I see it sis. How you're always staring off into space when you think no-one's looking. Or how you won't let that book of his out of your sight. Or like yesterday when you were brushing Rhongo's feathers six, seven, eight times in a row till I shouted your name. If he means that much to you, let me help."

Eventually, I end up telling Lucan everything and it's hard. Takes a lot of stops and starts. I definitely am not used to sharing my feelings with anyone, let alone the four men I've grown up with. It makes a welcome change to just open up and trust him, lightens the burden somewhat. Lucan promises me he'll do his best and leaves the room. If I think I'm done crying though, I'm mistaken; there's Hope's note still to read.


	8. Hope: Handwriting

**Hope: Handwriting**

Sometimes it's alarming how we've lost simple, but defining, parts of our history up here on Bhunivelze. Say when you're typing onto a VDU or into a pad, it's so easy to erase a word it hardly bears thought. But when you write onto paper, it's permanent. Using an incorrect word, spelling something badly or, my current problem, changing your mind means your mistakes are right there in front of you and you have to start all over again.

Evidence of such lack of conviction is all around me at the moment in scrunched up balls of paper all over my desk and in the trash. Not that it's entirely my handwriting's fault. I can't blame it for everything. I just see her there, framed by the setting sun on all sides and my heart aches. She's so beautiful and unique. Curious and intelligent. I've never felt this way about anyone before.

This time though, I'm going to write what I feel and I'm not going to change it. I'll write it, it'll get tied around the flower and I'll hand it to Genevieve who will get it delivered. Then there's no chance of me editing it or changing it around. Not unless I run to the dispatch office in time and … come on, Hope. Just write the damned thing.

* * *

_Dear Miss Ginger Cordova,_

_Enclosed with this note should be what we Bhunivelzians call a "Chocobo orchid". Even before the official fan club started up, we loved chocobos a great deal, as I told you. Our botanists created a flower in their honour and I thought it'd be the perfect thing to send. When they're sent as gifts, flowers up here are usually cut and severed from their roots. But to send you something like that seems cruel, you being so full of life itself._

_I'm sorry for my awkwardness yesterday. I'm not sure if you found out, but I was hanging around down there pretty much all afternoon trying to work up the courage to find you. When I finally did, I didn't have much time left. Thanks for the ride back to the airship though. I don't think the pilot was too pleased at me for being late, but who cares? It was worth it._

_I'd really like to see you again. As I'm not up to date with places and locations down on Pulse, I would be rather terrible at suggesting something for us to do. Just let me know when and where and I'll be there. Don't worry. I have lots of ideas in mind for when it's my turn to show you where I live._

_Well, there's a stack of documents patiently waiting on my desk. I can almost hear Dr. Marshall asking where his research paper is and if I've had time to read through it. And now I'm just writing for the sake of it so I'll sign off here. I look forward to hearing from you. Enjoy the flower. I have one in my office too._

_Thinking of you,  
Hope_

_P.S. Thank Rhongo for me._

* * *

When I get home much later in the day, I find a message waiting in my inbox. It's from a lucan and simply reads, "2 days time. 10am EPT. normal place."


	9. Ginger: Admissions in Lavender

**Ginger: Admissions in Lavender**

The past week has been amazing. Hope has been visiting me in the evenings after work and we'd spent our time talking, enjoying each other's company on the hill overlooking the ranch or out in the cornfields. Yesterday we had a picnic and he brought some food from Bhunivelze for me to try. One such thing was a rainbow-coloured cake decorated with white icing and another was a type of savoury pastry; full to bursting with rich gravy and meaty chunks. We have similar things down here on Gran Pulse but in comparison our food is bland and plain.

Just spending time with Hope feels like some kind of guilty pleasure I should be hiding, but I don't want to. This is all new to me and I'm learning so much about him, about the person behind the uniform. When we said our goodbyes last night, his hand brushed against mine for a moment and I felt that connection between us made physical; heated and electric. I'm sure he felt it too.

Today we have something special planned. I'm going to take him out to the Illu-Aana Steppe, where my brothers take the tourists on their chocobo tours. Lucan has managed to convince father I'm working in the northern paddocks all afternoon, though in reality I'd gotten up at 4am yesterday and ploughed through all my errands just so I could free today up. Hope arrives in his usual place on time and then we're away from the ranch, me on Rhongo and him riding a fast but calm-natured blue called Lorus.

On route to the Steppe, we pass through the small town of Parrador and head around the outer edge of Gladefall Canyon, home of countless pyx nests. As we're riding across the tundra, I talk to Hope about the animals themselves and how I'll sometimes head out here to watch them hunt, studying them from afar. Over the Estryll River filled with skittering shiny-scaled silver fish and onto the scenic route around Charrmere Lake, ending up in a tiny village where we break and eat. Finally, we arrive on the Steppe itself. It's a vast meadow of pink lavender and wildflowers, inhabited by the oretoise – giant beasts over twenty feet tall.

Hope and I are walking side by side, having left the chocobos to graze. All around us, a patchwork quilt of flowers spreads as far the eye can see, bordered on its furthest edges by rolling green hills and a swift-flowing river. Amidst the sea of lavender are little oases of trees, branches laden with their bounty of summer blossoms. Songbirds dance in the afternoon sky and sing their melodies as they pass above, oblivious to everything happening on the ground. And a breeze, fresh and cool coming down from the hills, carries with it the sweet but subtle aroma of countless flowers, rustling the tops of the lavender stalks in waves as it ripples by us.

"What an amazing place," Hope breathes, enraptured by the beauty all around us. I glance across at him, casual today in green jeans and a short-sleeved linen shirt with a light brown sun hat. Still every bit a Bhunivelzian, he's in my world now and to see him gazing around in wonder fills me with a sense of achievement; a small victory of sorts against that metal realm he calls home. Our slow walk ends at one of the meadow apple trees dotted in amongst the lavender and I lean back against it, facing the awe-struck outlander.

Whereas before I couldn't stop talking about the scenery or the animals, standing here right now I can't think of anything to say. I'm aware it's the first time all day I've been quiet and I take the opportunity to review the confusing mix of emotions churning my insides to mush. The more I'm with Hope the more I want to be with him. In his absence, all I think about is his gentle smile, those captivating eyes. Staring into them is to offer myself fully to him, in just the same way I can see his soul bared openly to me. Drowning in their opulent sea-green lustre, I'm lost.

Some part of me suggests this is perhaps what love is but that thought scares me. Everything I've seen of love involves sacrifice and loss, whereas it's something else completely in my imagination and in the romance novels I read. But I can't ignore the way Hope looks at me, his persistence in the way he keeps coming here to visit. Perhaps I'm a novelty to him. Maybe I'm imagining it. What if he really does care. Of course, I wonder: What could a Pulsian woman such as myself offer a man of Bhunivelze?

"Everything okay?" Hope asks, turning away from the landscape and towards me. Once again that disruptive timing is exemplary. "You've suddenly gone quiet."

"Yeah. I'm just thinking." The frown upon his brow tells me he sees right through the ruse.

"Looks like you have the weight of the world upon your shoulders. It must be about something important."

"I was thinking about you actually." As the words come out, I'm a spectator to the free-thinking liberty of my subconscious mind. It's like a pane of glass shattering inside of me, the cataclysmic effect of it painfully sharp. I watch the impact of my confession on Hope as his jaw drops slightly and silver brows arch in surprise. He freezes. Then, like sunshine melting ice, a smile begins to form on his lips.

"Not so important after all then," he chuckles. Holding my gaze, he begins to walk towards me at the tree. As the distance between us shortens the knot of nerves inside me tightens hundredfold. When Hope stops, he's perhaps a few inches away, the closest he's ever been. "Anything I can help with?"

My heart is thundering inside my chest. If I reached out now nothing could stop me. As coherently as I can with his body so close to mine, I ask Hope outright if he feels something between us. He pauses to take a deep breath, closing his eyes before adorning me with his gaze once more.

"I feel it. In truth, I'm very attracted to you. I can honestly say I've never felt like this about anyone before, and yet I'm terrified of what could happen when you find out who I really am."

"Why?" I ask. Hope looks every fraction how I feel inside, in disarray and frayed with nerves.

"It may change how you feel, Ginger, but I'm willing to take the risk. I don't want any secrets between us and I want you to like the real me, the one you see before you now."

In that instant he looks so vulnerable, like a child that's lost his mother amongst a sea of strangers. I tell him he can trust me, that nothing is going to make me give up on him. And so he does, there in the cool shade of the apple tree. I understand by the end why he asked me that odd question about his age, because I'd never have been able to guess.

Hope isn't just an officer in the Academy, he's director in chief. Not only that but he was one of the legendary l'Cie from ages past; a saviour of Cocoon, the place he was born. I stand pressed against the rough bark, gripping it like an anchor to the real world as he speaks of his past, of incredible things that you'd normally only find in stories, supernatural feats of time-travelling and heroics beyond all imagining.

When I think he can't surprise me any more, Hope starts to tell me about his new home. It was an idea, newly sprouted in his head over four hundred and ninety years ago, his greatest chance at redemption. Just as the Academy was his father's legacy to him, Bhunivelze is Hope's legacy to mankind. I'd thrown it so much hate over the years and now it hangs reverently in the sky past his shoulder, almost mocking me.

As Hope falls silent, he's too afraid to even look at me. I call his name softly and that silver head rises, meets my gaze. His beautiful eyes are so dull and forlorn with certainty that it makes my heart ache. For a while, I can't even summon words to describe my reaction to everything he'd told me, but I just look across at him standing there, waiting for me to strike him down with accusations of deceit. Instead, I reach out and take his hands in mine, enmeshing our fingers together. A glimmer of hope lights in his expression.

"That makes you the oldest person I know." I grin to emphasise the jovial nature of my words, emboldened as I am by our physical contact. Hope stares at me blankly.

"That's all you have to say. Really? You're not disappointed in me for holding back until now?"

"Want me to make a big deal of it and start calling you 'director' like everyone on Bhunivelze does?" I ask.

"No!" he laughs, "Don't do that. But answer me this, Ginger. How do you feel about me now?"

Behind him the afternoon sky is dropping into sunset tones, dulcet reds and oranges as it bathes the Steppe in a honeyed glow. I stare across into Hope's erudite sea-green eyes, his body framed by the meadow's beauty in stalks of green and pink lavender blossoms, in turn bracketed by the burst of sunset like a radiant blanket falling over the land, and I know; I'll remember this moment for the rest of my life.

All of the warnings screaming inside my head tell me how ridiculous these words sound before I say them, but I don't care any more. Do we have to understand something completely to embrace it? I think not. Despite the distance between our worlds, I want this and I want him, irrespective of everything else.

"I think I'm falling for you, Hope."

The director inhales sharply and then stares at me, his platinum locks dappled pink and amber with the light of the setting sun. He brushes a strand of hair from my face, slowly, as if it's the most daring thing he's ever done. The caress carries on across my cheek, stroking with only the very tips of his fingers before he moves in to kiss me. I close my eyes as I await the inevitable, breathing in the intoxicating scent of apple blossoms and meadow lavender, listening to the pounding rhythm within my blood and feeling Hope's warm breath against my lips.

And then, just as we're so close to committing ourselves to instinct there's an electronic ringing sound. I open my eyes to find Hope exasperated, remembering to breathe only then in much the same way I am. He exhales and answers the phone, frustration threaded through his greeting. I can hear the tinny voice of our interloper, probably sitting in an office somewhere on Bhunivelze completely unaware of what they've just done.

"No rest for the wicked?" I ask, smiling up at him as he snaps the device shut. Perhaps this is something I'll have to get used to.

"Apparently not." The director rests his forehead against mine and sighs. "I'm sorry Ginger."

"It's not your fault, Hope. There'll be other times."

"I'll make sure of it, I promise. My turn to show you where I live next. Though I can't guarantee there's anything quite so beautiful up on Bhunivelze, I will do my best."

It's almost funny in a way. All those times Hope interrupted me with his well-timed words and now, when there's nothing to stop us, when neither he nor I want to speak any more, someone a hundred miles away manages to do just that with faultless precision.


	10. Ginger: Family Disagreements

**Ginger: Family Disagreements**

I realise over the next few days that I'd been spoiled when Hope had visited me every day for a week. The only interaction we've had for three whole days now has been in the form of emails, passed between Gran Pulse and Bhunivelze with Lucan as our intermediary. Even then it's awkward since there are things we both want to say and can't with my brother involved, so the separation aches all the more.

Lately I've been working non-stop. As soon as I finish one set of chores there's another waiting for me and today is no different. Just after I've finished tending the vegetable gardens and before I'm setting out with Rhongo to corral the greens at the south of Blue Feather, I catch Lucan alone in the kitchen. He winks at me when I hand him a folded piece of paper and then I'm off, grabbing a bottle of water as I head out the door. Hope is with me the whole day, nestled away secretly in my thoughts.

When the last of the afternoon's light is low in the sky, I've finally finished all of my tasks. I set Rhongo down to roost in the stables with the other birds, discreetly feed him a lettuce from the garden since he's my favourite, and then I wrap my arms around that great feathered neck. His scent is comforting, rich earthy tones and accents of plains grass scattered in amongst it today from our hard work in the fields. Rhongo nuzzles my shoulder with his beak and settles down in the hay, chirping out a goodnight to me as I head through the large double doors and bolt them shut.

A storm is coming from the looks of the steel grey expanse spreading across the sunset. There's a slight chill in the air so I hurry to the house and take off my boots on the porch. Already running through my head is tonight's agenda; hot shower, hearty meal, perhaps a bit of reading and then secretly meet with Lucan for Hope's reply.

Father is sitting at the kitchen table when I enter the house though, his thick arms folded on the solid oak surface in an uncharacteristically reserved posture. The feeling of dread in my stomach tells me there's going to be trouble shortly and I have a few guesses as to what it'll be about.

"Where have you been all day?" he asks too calmly, his eyes slick with something unpleasant.

"Out corralling the greens like you told me to. They're all fine except Jericho, who's managed to sprain his ankle somehow. I put him to rest in the stables with -"

"I know you've been seeing that Academy suit, but it stops right now." Father's voice is still calm, but I know how that can change in an instant. I consider briefly that since he's sitting there at the table so serenely, he may be willing to talk about this. But it would be the first time in my life I've ever experienced such a change in his otherwise adamant will. Playing innocent will do nothing in this situation, so I stand up straight and take a deep breath, take my first step into the faeryl's maw.

"As long as it's not affecting my work on the ranch, I can do what I want with my life. I'm old enough now."

Father glares at me. His fists clench on the tabletop and I see both massive biceps tighten as he struggles to retain some modicum of self-control. I wonder who it was that told him; who had been spying on me and telling tales. My oldest brother Indrik usually doesn't involve himself in such trivial matters and I know with every shred of my being it's not Lucan, so it has to be Denny. He would do anything to gain father's favour and this is so typically him. Petty and childish.

"You're my daughter and this is my house. If I say you're not seeing him again then you're not going to," father states, a rising threat edging its way into his voice.

"I thought you wanted me to meet new people," I say, going to get a glass of water from the sink. "Or is it only people you specifically want me to get along with, like that son of Richter's. What's his name? Andre. I'm not interested, but if you want to be a part of their vast fortunes, go ahead and marry him yourself."

"How dare you. After everything I've done for you!" father snarls, standing up suddenly and sending his chair clattering to the floor. His face is reddened and angry, his body a raw mass of ire now that he's no longer pretending to be calm. I guess he doesn't like being faced with the truth, but I'm in no mood to back down either now.

"What have you done for me? You were never there when I was young. I looked after Lucan and then I was shipped over here where you immediately put me to work. When have you ever cared about anything I've ever wanted in my life?"

And so the argument goes for a while, tension rising and tempers fraying the longer it escalates. In the end I feel this is a losing battle, no matter what the outcome will be. Father is used to getting what he wants and me, the weakling daughter, is powerless to change that irrefutable fact of life.

Every one of my strengths – a love of knowledge, my curiosity and imagination, the affection with which I nurture my chocobos – is a weakness to father, whose virtues are being strong and showing people you're better than them. Two of my brothers follow in his footsteps but perhaps I saved one of them – Lucan.

"Nothing I do ever makes you happy, father. Even the birds. You only care because they make money. I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment to you, but I won't abide by your rules any more. I'm a grown woman."

My parting shot is designed to dispel the air. I don't want to argue any more, nor do I want to be lied to or deceived by my own flesh and blood. There's the feeling that nothing was really solved because I know father is too stubborn to just leave it at that, but I've spoken enough for today. Heading out of the kitchen and upstairs to my room, I retreat.

As I climb into bed, still fully-clothed, there's a crash from downstairs. I try to ignore it and turn my attention to the window, shut tight against the storm. The sky is purple and black now, churning in rage as if reflecting my father's tumultuous mood. A flash of white lightning streaks through the clouds and is followed by earth-rumbling thunder, shaking the walls of my room and me along with it. Rain drives down in sheets not too long after.

The sights and sounds of a storm are normally a balm for my soul, sending me off into peaceful repose. Not so much now with the argument still whirring furiously in my head. I take Hope's books from their hiding place under my bed and unwrap them carefully. The familiar aroma of the paper and of Hope himself comforts me a little, but it's not until much later that I'm finally able to sleep.

When I go downstairs for breakfast the next morning, I see the chocobo orchid lying on the ground. It's dead and crushed. Scattered around it are fragmented shards of plant pot and a spread of dark, earthy soil.


	11. Hope: Searching

**Hope: Searching**

This storm is incredible. I would be more appreciative of its magnificent power should Ginger be safe at home and not out in the middle of it. Lucan had called me in a panic and informed me of her disappearance then I'd immediately called Sazh, asking for his help. In all it takes less than twenty minutes for everyone to mobilise and head out in search of her, but it's not soon enough for me.

"Can't wait to meet this woman of yours, kid. Sounds like one hell of a lady," Sazh remarks, glancing across at me from his pilot's seat. I smile briefly, picturing her amongst a background of apple blossoms and lavender. She is.

"Sis knows about the accident." I turn to look in her brother's direction as he speaks, noting the familiar anxiety on his face. I feel it eating away at my insides. Lucan is strapped into his flight seat on the other side of the airship, as too is Sazh's son. The little guy's fast asleep and clutching a yellow chocobo doll in his arms. Apparently he can sleep through anything; the storm's wailing roar nor lightning strikes off the bow waking him.

"What happened?" I ask.

"She confronted father at breakfast after he smashed the chocobo flower. Said she knew he'd been keeping things from her and demanded to know what was going on. Father told her all of it. Sis went to her room then. Didn't see her all afternoon on account of saying she needed time alone, then around dinner time I noticed Rhongo was gone. Sis too. I went as far out as I could but the weather forced me back. Didn't know what else to do so I called you."

"You did all you could, Lucan. She'll be fine," I tell him with a smile. If only I could reassure myself so easily.

I look out of the panelled glass at the front of the airship, rain streaking down it in rivulets as we speed through the darkness. Sazh is our best pilot but I'm beside myself, desperate to find Ginger safe and sound. The only reason we're able to track her at all is that Rhongo has a GPS chip implanted under his skin. So far the signal has stayed in one place and we're closing in, but the tension inside me is mounting.

Of course, Ginger may not even want to see me again. I had kept something from her, after all. When I'd arrived at the ranch that day with my pathetic excuse of coming to check on her reading, I'd found her unconscious in a pool of blood, spread out on the kitchen floor with her family in disarray. Not wasting a second, I took her up to Bhunivelze and rushed her to a hospital. Ginger would have died had I not.

Her father though. I'll never forget the look in his eyes as he made me swear never to mention any of it. I didn't understand why, but not wishing to make things difficult for Ginger, I acquiesced to his wishes. That decision has lain uneasily on my conscience ever since.

"Hey guys. We're here," Sazh calls, bringing me out of my reverie. Our destination appears to be a small stone and mortar building, standing alone in a wide expanse of scrubland. There's nothing else for miles around. I feel anxiety knotting itself tighter and tighter still in my stomach the closer we get to landing. Ginger has to be here. She'd never leave Rhongo by himself out in this storm.

The moment we're on the ground, I dash down the boarding ramp, into the driving wind and rain and throw open the door. It's dark and at first I see nothing. Wild streaks of lightning are the only source of illumination in the building, flashing through a tiny window set into the far wall. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, panic stirs inside me and I make out angular shapes: boxes, crates and barrels wrapped in tarpaulin. Then I see her, nestled against her beloved chocobo like a frightened child clings to its mother. Thank Etro, she's safe!

Lucan is a mere second behind me and rushes to embrace his sister, asking in rapid tones if she's injured or hurt. Eventually, he seems satisfied with her condition and catches my eye, passes on the responsibility of her well-being. I go to kneel before her on the ground. Rhongo is whuffling soft calls deep in his throat and keeping her shrouded with a protective wing.

"Hope?" Ginger looks up at me with wide eyes, her rain-streaked face still so beautiful in the dim, flickering light of the lodge.

"I'm here." Relief flows through me, palpable in its presence and an elixir to my frayed nerves. I want to touch her and confirm that she's not some cruel mirage. Ginger doesn't flinch away as I reach out and I take her hands into mine. They're freezing cold. "You're soaked wet through. Let's get you warm."

I'm already pulling off my raincoat and wrapping it around Ginger's shoulders as she begins to speak, voice crackled and weary. "You came all the way out here just to find me?"

"All that matters to me is that you're safe and well. Don't worry about anything else," I say.

Tears drip sadly from sapphire eyes, down her cheeks and into the darkness beyond. I'm just so relieved that she's safe. When I pull Ginger close, wrapping my arms carefully about her waist, she reciprocates the gesture and then we're staring at each other. Before we realise what's happening my lips are on hers. I never expected our first kiss to be like this but to me it's the most unbelievable feeling nonetheless.

Ginger sighs as we part. She rests her forehead against mine and whispers, "I believe I owe you my life."

"Hey. Didn't I just tell you not to worry about that?" I say, pulling the coat back around her shoulders.

"I'm talking about my unconscious flight to Bhunivelze and the three days I spent in hospital."

"Oh, right. That." I look up, expecting disappointment in the soft curves of her face, but Ginger merely smiles. Apparently she owes me her life twice now. I'm glad to see the Pulsian spirit is unharmed despite all of this. "You don't owe me anything except a date up on Bhunivelze, like we agreed. Are you mad at me?"

"No Hope. I know it was all father's doing, though I don't know why he reacted like that. Things have been bad for a while now. I don't really know what's going on with him," Ginger replies with a sigh. "And I noticed there's no scarring at all on my arm. From what I remember, the wound was pretty bad, wasn't it?"

I nod, trying to push the memory out of my mind even as I recall what happened. "It sliced an artery and due to all the bacteria in the wolf's claws, we had to clean and recycle your blood. I visited you in the hospital before and after work each day. My little secret is that I healed your scar with old l'Cie magic."

Ginger just stares, that look on her face almost more than I can bear. I know it's probably just shock at everything she's been through, but I don't want reverence for what I did. That's not why I did it. Helping her up off the floor and out into the airship through the still raging storm, she seems exhausted and confirms that by falling asleep against my shoulder.

Lucan looks across at his recumbent sister and then at me, his face unreadable. But then he smiles and I know he's just given me his blessing. For as long as I still draw breath I won't let either of them down.


	12. Ginger: Waking Up in the Sky

**Ginger: Waking Up in the Sky**

At first all I feel is warmth, familiar in that hazy moment when you're just phasing out of a dream and into the waking world. I'm so comfortable that I don't want to get up. Lazing in bed for another ten minutes won't do me any harm and I decide that my chores can wait. But then slowly, like a trickle of recognition at first, the memories come back.

I peek out from under the duvet to find myself in a completely unrecognisable place. I'm in a bedroom, that much is clear, but that's about where my knowledge stops. The walls are decorated in soft green tones and there are several storage cabinets and wardrobes; white and darker shades of green. A large television screen hangs dormant on the far wall. I climb out of the large double bed and step onto a beautiful hardwood floor towards the most striking feature of the room.

Sunlight is pouring in through double doors and caressing the floor with its warm touch, inviting me to explore beyond. From what I can see of the view it's obvious I'm not on Gran Pulse right now. A knot of excitement twists in my stomach and then I look down at myself, wearing an old t-shirt I don't remember putting on. Barefoot and somewhat intrigued as to how I ended up here, I leave the room and head down a corridor, this floor carpeted with dusky charcoal, towards a set of descending stairs.

Downstairs I can hear Hope and my brother talking and it's then I get a crisis of self-confidence. I'm hardly wearing anything and my hair will be crazy; it hates mornings as much as I do. Edging around the door frame ever so slightly, I peek into the room and see it's a kitchen. Hope and Lucan are seated at a dining table and are in deep conversation before my brother spots me.

"Morning sis," he says in greeting. Hope follows his gaze and smiles at me from behind a steaming mug of dark liquid. It's then I remember what happened last night in the shed. Something flutters inside me. Sending a silent plea to Lucan, I'm amazed when he responds and comes to the door, ignoring the questions I'm about to ask him and instead handing me a carry-all.

I return a while later, showered and dressed, then take a seat at Hope's side. He is casually dressed in a shirt and dark jeans with a greeting in his eyes. My brother, on the other hand, is nursing a plate stacked high with pancakes that are dripping some kind of golden syrup. Some things never change.

"Hey sleepyhead," Lucan grins. I scowl at him and he laughs. "Told you she was grumpy in the morning."

"Would you like some coffee, Ginger?" Hope asks politely. I nod sheepishly and he begins to pour out a mug. "I don't often eat breakfast but hopefully this is enough for you both. Let me know if there's anything you need." He catches my eye and I see a glint of amusement there, likely aimed at my brother's healthy appetite. I smile back, gratefully receiving the beverage into my awaiting hands.

The aroma is heavy and pungent, inaccurate indicators of the best coffee I've ever had in my life. It's rich and powerful and tastes like liquid velvet upon my tongue. Steam curls up lazily from the dark surface, perhaps reluctant to be parted from such an amazing substance.

"This is real coffee," I sigh appreciatively. "We hardly ever get this on Gran Pulse. It's very expensive."

Hope chuckles. "As real as you can grow in a hydroponics bay, but it's good to meet a fellow enthusiast."

My brother glances between Hope and I in turn, clearly not sharing the love. "You two can have your coffee. OJ suits me fine, but hey sis! Guess where we are right now."

I add my own ideas to Lucan's child-like grin and come up with only one real answer: Bhunivelze. The last thing I remember is being passenger on an airship with Hope's raincoat wrapped around my shoulders, shivering underneath because I was soaked to the bone. Are we really up in the sky?

"That's right," Hope confirms brightly. "We got back so late that I didn't have the opportunity to organise accommodation for you both, so right now you're at my home in Academia."

"Isn't that great, sis? Now we don't have to worry about going back to Blue Feather. We can just stay up here. Hope said he can get us somewhere to stay and there will even be room for Rhongo to run about."

Forgetting everything else for the moment, a flash of panic runs through me. "Wait. Where is he?"

"Rhongo's safe. He's out in the garden." Hope takes a sip of coffee and then puts his mug down on the table, next turning his gaze to my brother. "Actually Lucan, do you mind going to check on him?"

The two men exchange a glance and Lucan nods before he rises and heads out of the kitchen. I thank Hope for his distraction. With diplomacy skills like that, it's easy to see how he became director.

"You're welcome." He stands and holds out his hand to me. I take it and follow him through to another room. "I figured you'd want a chance to get your bearings after everything that happened and not be launched into your brother's house-hunting plans just yet."

I sigh at Lucan's well-meant but badly-timed enthusiasm. "Did he tell you it was his dream to live up here?"

Hope grins, seeming amused and not at all offended. "He did. Several times and in great detail."

We're in what looks like a lounge now, large and spacious. It's beautifully decorated in deep crimson hues and white, with several paintings hanging on the walls and statuettes perched on top of cabinets. At one end is a large ellipse-shaped window and it's towards this that Hope walks me, still clutching my hand. Out there at the far edge of a perfectly manicured lawn is Rhongo. I watch as my brother approaches him and sits down on the grass beside him.

"See. He's fine. When we stopped off at the ranch to collect your belongings, your brother brought along greens for him. Even when those run out I'm sure there's something we can find for him to eat up here."

I don't say anything, but I move away from the window. Just the mention of my home stirs awake darkness in my heart, brings back all the memories of yesterday. Hope squeezes my hands in his.

"Do you want to talk about it and tell me what happened?" he asks.

"Surely Lucan must have told you?"

"Yes, but I'd rather hear it from you if you're willing. Besides, it's good to talk. Cathartic, as they say."

I move to sit on a wheat-coloured sofa. Where to begin, really. It had been non-stop pretty much as soon as I'd gotten up yesterday morning. Starting there, I tell the silver-haired director everything; from the fight with father to my running off into the rain with Rhongo, becoming trapped by the ever-worsening storm and eventually taking shelter where he found me, in the storage shed.

"But what did your father say that made you take Rhongo and leave?" Hope asks softly.

"He gave me an ultimatum. Told me to break things off with you or relinquish all claim to the ranch and my birds. He said there are few things worse than his only daughter consorting with the Academy. I couldn't handle that, especially with Luc creeping around me like I'd shatter. So I took Rhongo out and headed for Parrador but the weather turned very quickly."

Hope stares at me. I can't read the look in his sea-green eyes but he's frowning. "All this is because of me?"

"Father made it about you. He always controlled what I did to an extent, but I never really learned how much until recently. I still don't think he told me everything, but I know he made you keep things from me. He lied to us both. Made choices for me I was oblivious to. I'm really sorry about all this, Hope." I glance across at him briefly. "The last thing you need is to get dragged into this mess."

"You're apologising to me?" he exclaims, turning to face me. "There's no need to. This isn't your fault."

"Do you regret it now, coming to visit me that day?" I laugh sadly and look down at my lap. I feel crestfallen. Hope strokes his hands along the length of my arms and over my shoulders. Heading ever upwards, he cups my face gently and tilts my gaze up, straight into his. Those beautiful irises shimmer.

"That's like asking me if I regret falling in love with you. And the answer to that is fairly obvious."

"Is it?" I ask, although I already know the answer. Pretty much word for word the one I'd give if the roles were reversed. Hope pulls me towards him and I don't resist at all, our lips meeting in a caress much more rewarding for him than the cold, soggy mess he had to endure last night. For me, it's the same warmth and softness that I remember, only this time we're completely alone.

My hands brush through his silver hair, feeling him just as eager to fall into me and yet, when things start to get heated, Hope pulls back. For all his eagerness, he still manages to be a perfect gentleman under pressure. His chest is heaving all the same though.

"I got way ahead of myself there," he grins and pulls back to regard me, turning serious. "That may have been the last chance I had to do that, so I took the opportunity."

"How do you come to that conclusion?" I ask. My cheeks are blazing with the heat of our kiss.

"I know how much the chocobos mean to you and I'm not nearly brazen enough to believe you'll choose me over them. You need time to think if you haven't. Time away from me too most likely," he says. I take Hope's hands in mine and smile across at him, amused that he hasn't gotten the hint yet.

Unbeknownst to either Hope or Lucan, I had already made up my mind last night. In the darkness of that storm-battered building I'd resolved to control my own fate from then on. It wasn't an easy decision. I know the pain that will come, of being torn away from my birds and not knowing their fate, of giving up almost everything I know.

Because of them, I considered going back and begging for forgiveness, hoping that father would let me forget about my silver-haired director in the sky. I'd be selling my life short, of course, and there was the matter of me being able to accept such a decision. It would be tearing out the seed of love Hope had already planted in my heart and it would be underestimating Rhongo's part in all this.

Nestled under his wing in the shed, I looked up at that chocobo face and knew; no matter what happened to me, I'd still have him. My beloved friend, gazing at me with eyes that said, "I trust you. Do what you have to and I'll be by your side." His silent conviction in me would give me that strength, along with Hope's companionship and my brother's support. Lucan would be living his dream, after all. And so I chose.

"I made my decision already. It means you'll be seeing a lot more of me, if that's okay with you." Hope looks as if he doesn't believe it then asks me if I'm sure, twice, before I tell him I won't change my mind.

There's just enough time to kiss once again before Lucan clears his throat outside the door and waits a few seconds before entering.


	13. Hope: Sightseeing

**Hope: Sightseeing**

To keep Ginger's mind busy and away from negative thoughts, I offer to take both my red-headed beauty and her brother on a tour of Academia, Bhunivelze's capital city and home of the Academy itself. Lucan, as expected, all but leaps for joy and accepts immediately. Ginger seems somewhat reluctant until I suggest bringing Rhongo with us, at which point she smiles at me and agrees.

Perhaps I should have thought that idea over before suggesting it as I can foresee the consequences it will bring. The citizens of Academia will marvel at Rhongo and his fine amaranthine plumage. They will wonder who the woman on my arm is, where she came from and why their director looks so utterly enamoured with her. But then I consider if any of that really matters as long as she's happy and we're together before concluding that it doesn't. So off we go.

My thoughts still linger on everything she's had to endure the past few days, myself having played no small part in those happenings. I wonder if there's anything I could have done differently, but sometimes fate intervenes and you don't get a choice even if you wanted one.

When we kissed in the lounge, I felt avaricious for the first time in my life. As I felt the warmth of her body against mine, the velvet touch of her lips, her fingers threading themselves through my hair in a clinch that threatened to overspill into something dangerous, I felt selfish. For her to go back Blue Feather Ranch wasn't an acceptable outcome and it hardened something inside of me; a resolute streak that would fight to the end for her affections. But then, of course, she looked into my eyes and told me she'd already chosen.

The Academy and Bhunivelze have been my life up until this point. Ever since the day Cocoon fell from the skies and was saved by Fang and Vanille's crystal pillar, I have worked tirelessly to provide a better future. We owed it to the survivors that day, to atone for our actions as l'Cie and put right the wrongs instilled into people's minds by the fal'Cie. But now, perhaps, it's time to do something for myself.

And so as I walk through Academia with my arm around Ginger's waist, I make a silent promise to her. I will do everything to make our life together as happy and fulfilling as I possibly can, show her the wonders of my world and make each day a new adventure for us both.


	14. Ginger: City of Wonder

**Ginger: City of Wonder**

Having lived on Gran Pulse all my life, where you can walk for miles in any direction and not see another soul all day, the city of Academia is a claustrophobic maze of alleyways, bridges and paths. Hope embraces from one side and Rhongo is at the other with Lucan strolling out ahead. One moment we're in a narrow street surrounded on all sides by endless skyscrapers and then we're turning a corner into a vista that takes my breath away.

There are bars of light, blue arrowed walkways and ramps, electronic banners, vast stretches of windows, rooftops, promenades, outdoor cafés, solar panels and people. So many people. Children skipping along watched by smiling parents, young couples arm in arm, street vendors selling food from brightly-coloured carts. Overhead there's a network of flying vehicles like a swarm of bees, causing me to marvel at how none of them collide mid-air. This place; all I can describe it as is "ordered chaos" and it's brimming with life.

The realisation hits me squarely in the chest. I had been wrong for such a long time, believing this was a dead place of metal and heartless people going about their emotionless lives. Meeting Hope should have disproved that but now I see it, spread out before me in an undeniable living and breathing mass. Just one more thing father lied about and I'd believed him.

Hope is there to catch me when I stagger. He stares anxiously at me and asks if I'm okay, to which I reply that I am, but I'm struggling to take all of this in. I had made the right decision last night, but it may take some getting used to.


	15. Hope: Disquiet

**Hope: Disquiet**

When she gets over her initial shock at seeing the Grand Plaza, Ginger comes alive with the light of discovery. Every new experience thrills her and she's asking questions left and right, of which I answer each one, grinning at her limitless enthusiasm. I'm only too pleased to satisfy her curiosity. That very fact warms my heart and lifts my spirits.

We're taking a slow walk towards the Crystarium Park when the comm device holstered at my side starts to chime. I look at Ginger apologetically. In her eyes glistens the memory of the meadow, how this very sound had sundered the chance of our first kiss. With a squeeze of my hand Ginger smiles at me in understanding and goes over to stand by her brother, the two of them looking out over the city side by side.

I answer the call with mild intrigue and a touch of concern. The only person able to contact me right now is my secretary and she wouldn't do that outside of a last resort. People don't argue with Genevieve LaFevre when she says the director is busy.

"Good morning Mr. Estheim. I'm sorry to disturb you, but I have General Ochain on the line."

"Morning Vive. What's the matter?" I ask.

"General Ochain says it's urgent. He said to mention 'Meteor Javelin' to you."

A shard of ice buries itself in my chest at the mention of those words. I instantly know the severity of the situation and my throat goes dry. Ginger looks so peaceful now, one hand resting on her chocobo's wing. No sooner have I decided to make our happiness paramount than something arrives to threaten that. Perhaps this won't be as serious I'm expecting. "Okay. Put him through."

"Good morning, sir. Apologies for disturbing you but I contact you in the utmost urgency." I hold my breath as the general pauses, likely composing himself for what he's about to say. "They made a move at 6:15am this morning and ground crew alpha are reporting twenty five casualties already. Should I put in place the counter-measures we discussed, sir?"

They say you never see evil coming. It's a slow, creeping darkness that takes you by surprise. Sometimes, I wish "they" wouldn't say anything at all.


End file.
